


This Is Us, I Think

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: Convict Road Cleanup Crew - a long ago AU idea that I started ages ago and just now finished.





	This Is Us, I Think

Okay, so maybe hacking into the local news channel's servers so that the words "Adam Mitchell is an asshole" scroll endlessly across the bottom of the screen wasn't Rose's smartest idea, but she was confident in her abilities and didn't see a reason why she would get caught. She may have forgotten that Adam was nearly as talented at hacking as she was and now had a vested interest in helping the cops find her.

When the judge pronounced a sentence of 200 community service hours Rose had pictured something like filing in the old courthouse or wearing a silly hat to advertise car insurance. It had never crossed her mind that she would be loaded into a van with nine other convicts and sent out to pick up trash on the side of the road. It's not like what she did was _that_ awful and most of the others in the van looked like they had killed someone and enjoyed it.

The first day the van dropped them off on the side of a long-abandoned stretch of highway and after the security guard had given them all a stern lecture in which he strongly hinted he had a gun that he wasn't afraid to use, each of them were handed a pair of gloves, a black trashbag, and a long-handled pair of tongs. They were supposed to pair up, something about safety in numbers, but Rose hadn't so much as looked at any of her fellow convicts and she wasn't terribly sure she wanted to end up paired with one of them. 

She hung to the back, kind of hoping to be paired with the only other woman in the group, but a man with jet black hair claimed her instead and Rose found herself staring at a guy who had overlarge ears, a leather jacket she was pretty sure could be hiding a weapon, and crystal blue eyes. There was something in the man's face that seemed to suggest that crossing him would probably end badly, but there was no one else and she nodded when he jerked his head sideways and she didn't realize until way too late that she had understood his nonverbal communication way better than she probably should have.

Rose tried very hard not to say anything, unfortunately she was nervous and her brain had a very bad habit of not asking for permission to speak when she was nervous. As a result she found herself chattering incessantly not five minutes after the group started off. Her partner - he had yet to identify himself - said absolutely nothing, but he also showed signs he was listening by offering an occasional nod or grunt when she paused for breath or got side-tracked by some interesting bit of trash. 

By the end of the first day she had not learned his name, but she had learned that he sometimes looked like he wanted to smile, his hand was available to steady her when she tripped over her own feet, and he was both feared and respected by the other convicts. It gave her great pause as to what he had done to cause people that looked like the dude with the metal spikes in his hands to look at him like they did and it gave her even greater pause to discover that she didn't care nearly as much as she ought to. 

The first week of work happened in much the same way. He would claim her partnership, his dark glare causing everyone to back way off, and she would ramble about whatever crossed her mind while he made sounds that she interpreted as interest. She found herself increasingly curious about whether or not he was actually capable of speech and asked him more and more questions to try to goad him into responding. 

It wasn't until Day 4 when she was lazily talking about the happenings on the Estate (Arianna had gotten two thousand quid off the council because the man behind the desk said she looked Greek, Arianna's nationality notwithstanding) and not paying attention to her surroundings when he suddenly grabbed her arm and jerked her sideways with a gruff "Rose." She was about to get irritated when he went after something that slithered with his long handled tongs, a quick slash and he held the tail of a rattlesnake in his gloved hand. Rose was torn between appreciation for his quick wits and triumph that he had spoken and the triumph won the day. She crowed with the knowledge and it took almost an entire five minutes for him to roll his eyes with a "Know how to talk, me, just don't see the need to ramble on."

No, he certainly didn't ramble on - or usually speak more than three sentences strung together, but after that he would respond to more pointed questions and occasionally correct her assumptions about this or that, usually things she wasn't expecting him to know about: space travel, antiquities, and Bond villains (he was a bit lacking on his Star Trek knowledge, but no one could be perfect).

By the end of two weeks, Rose found herself looking forward to the hours spent in the sun picking up trash more than was probably strictly sane. After all the Doctor (and she still hadn't quite gained the courage to ask him how he'd earned that particular nickname) still had secrets that showed in the edges of his words and the scars that crossed his hands. But for all that she could get him to talk to her, even taking part in games like Most-Bizarre-History-of-Trash and How-Many-Drivers-Will-Give-Us-Terrified-Looks-Today, his words still had a razor sharp edge. Sometimes, if she was particularly lucky, she would get a secret interspersed with his abrupt sentences - enough to learn that his family was gone, dead in a raging fire, and he was adrift in a world that he claimed to hate, though his hands were gentle when he rescued turtles from death by speeding car. 

When Clive, a man with wild eyes and more conspiracy theories than the government had secrets, whispered in her ear fanciful tales about the Doctor and his exploits, she went home and with a few simple keystrokes discovered that the Doctor was everything Clive claimed and about a thousand things that had never crossed Clive's terrified mind. She had a brief moment of reservation, but it was swiftly followed by a burst of newfound emotions that she focused on exposing some politician for his affair with a girl half his age. The next day when the Doctor boarded the van she only waited till the guard turned around to grab the Doctor's hand, ignoring Clive's squeak of horror.

The closer they got to the end of the service hours (something that just a few weeks ago Rose was certain would be the Worst Experience of Her Life), the more she was dreading it all coming to an end. She had even started vaguely hinting at visiting the Doctor in whatever prison he was in or just happening to be picking up trash on the same stretch of highway for completely unrelated reasons. The Doctor rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "stupid ape" which she ignored - she had learned that he tended to insult things when he was feeling anything that resembled emotions (he had done something that sounded almost like a monologue on the failings of the human race in general after slicing his finger on a spare bit of glass).

The final day arrived at last though and Rose gave up all pretense of picking up trash, except when the guard drove by, threading her fingers through the Doctor's calloused ones and gripping tight. He didn't say much at all, just the occasional grunt while she talked about plans to save the world, plans to break him out of jail, plans to...and then suddenly there was a squeal of brakes, the spit of gravel against the cuffs of her jeans, and a beat up blue van pulled abruptly to a halt right next to them. The side door slid open and a dark-haired man (one of the other convicts - Rose's shorting out brain managed to supply) stuck his head out with a quick, "Come on then, Doc!"

The Doctor took the two steps towards the van and climbed in, turning back to look at Rose, his eyes wide and earnest. "You could come with me?"

She wanted to, she really did, but there was other things to consider: her mum, finishing her community service hours, her actual day job and she shook her head, "I can't, I've got to take care of my mum. And someone's got to finish picking up trash."

He was nodding his head before she finished, resignation in his face. "Okay." He leaned back, the door sliding back into position almost before he was out of the way.

She heard the rush of the engine, saw the tires start to turn, and the magnitude of what had just happened struck her. Behind her she could hear the oncoming roar of the guard's truck and she gritted her teeth as she felt her eyes fill up with tears. She started to turn around, preparing some lie that would somehow protect the Doctor when she realized the van was stopping again, the side door slamming open, and the Doctor's face was suddenly there once more, goofy grin in place. 

"Did I mention we can go anywhere?"

She didn't even have to think, running full out towards him and leaping into the van at the last second, her arms going around him, and knocking them both backwards into safety. 

Later she discovered the rumors were true - the ones Clive had suspected and the ones no one dared to say aloud, later she met Jack and Donna and everyone else in the Doctor's crew, later she learned to visit Jackie under cover of darkness and to wire money into her account electronically when they couldn't make it in person, later she learned the feel of the Doctor's lips, the contours of his body, the story behind each and every scar. But for the moment she was in his arms, they were together, and it was everything.


End file.
